He could not understand. He knew nothing
of her life since that night he had refused to listen to her
explanation, and in his anger taunted her with being the plaything of
Dick Falkner, and then, because her face flushed, thought that he had
hit on the truth and grew almost abusive in his language.
But Amy only answered, "Sir, you are mistaken now, as you were when
you drove me from home; Mr. Falkner had nothing to do with my leaving
Boyd City."
"You are my daughter still," stormed Adam, "and I will force you to
leave this low position and come home to us. You cannot deceive me
with your clever lie about supporting yourself. What do you know about
a servant's work? That cursed tramp printer is at the bottom of all
this, and I'll make him suffer for it as I live. I will force you to
come home."
Amy's face grew pale, but she replied quietly, "Oh no, father, you
will not do that, because that would make public my position you know.
I have no fear of your proclaiming from the housetops that your daughter
is a hired girl on a farm."
"But father," she said, in softer voice, as Adam stood speechless with
rage; "Father, forgive me for this, for I know that I am right. Let
me stay here and prove that I am not useless to the world, and then
perhaps I will go to you. In the meantime, keep my secret and no one
shall know that your claim on society has teen lessened because your
daughter is learning to do a woman's work."
Just a shade of bitter sarcasm crept into her voice, but Adam did not
notice, for he saw the agent and the farmer coming.
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